At Le Havre we were met by two men of the French Army, who to our unaccustomed eyes appeared very strange in their red trousers and blue coats. We promptly dubbed them "The Pantomime Army." They were to act as our interpreters, and came forward with their credentials to the C.O.

After disembarking our transport, etc., we were marched, through the docks, on to the dock road, there to hang about all day long, amusing ourselves as best we could. A sentry was posted to stop any man from going into the town, but we were allowed to let civilians bring us provisions.

At nightfall we were formed up, and marched by way of the sea-front through the town and away up a steep hill at the back, where we found a camp already pitched for us. That march and landing I shall ever remember, and so will all those who took part in it. We were among the first English troops of the Expeditionary Force to put foot on French soil, and the excitement was great. Over the whole of the distance we travelled we were hemmed in by crowds shouting Vive l'Angleterre! Often they broke our ranks to embrace us. We stayed only the one night at Le Havre, and recommenced our journey on the night of the thirteenth.

At Le Havre Railway Station we were packed into horse-boxes, 36 men and N.C.O.'s in each box, the total often reaching nearly 50 men. In that condition we travelled the whole of the night, and the next day passed through St. Amiens, Rouen, and Arras. At each place we had a wonderful reception—especially at Arras, where the Mairie and other Civic officials turned out with bouquets of flowers for the Officers; and there was a Guard of Honour of French troops. The free giving of chocolates and sweets by the populace was indeed very gratifying to us: it made us feel more eager for the work which was to follow.

That night (the fourteenth of August) we detrained at a village called Le Nouvain. It had come on to rain, and we were very pleased to find our billets situated in a large schoolhouse with plenty of clean fresh straw for our beds. On the morning of the fifteenth we marched out in Brigade order, as we always did on every occasion afterwards. My Brigade, which was the 2nd, commanded then by Brigadier General Bulfin, consisted of the 2nd King's Royal Rifles, 2nd Northampton Regiment, 2nd Royal Sussex Regiment, and 1st Loyal North Lancashire Regiment, each Brigade consisting of four line Battalions. A smarter body of men, all seasoned soldiers, one could not wish to meet (the average of their service was not less than five years, all the younger recruits having been left behind in England as peace details). Our destination for that day at any rate was not a distant one; we proceeded only to a small village called Esquerries, not more than three miles off. There we again went into billets for four days. On arrival at the farm at which I was billeted, the farmer's wife on seeing us broke into tears—she thought that we were the Germans! But, I am pleased to say, the good woman, and her good man too, were more upset when we left, on account of having become so much attached to us.

We spent those four days in route marches; and all men under the age of twenty-five years were then inoculated. The hard part of that stay was that no man was allowed to write home giving his whereabouts, or even to head the letter with his name or Regiment. Of course no Field Service post-cards had been issued at that time.

On the morning of the eighteenth we bade good-bye to Esquerries, and continued in a three-days' rush up-country to Mons. The first day we covered something like sixteen miles, and came to rest in the usual farm-buildings. Before we set off the next day, any man who thought that he would not be able to perform the task before us was required to give in his name to the Officer Commanding Companies. I believe we had two sent back, one with a troublesome leg through a break, and the other returned by the Brigadier on account of his very low stature. He did not think that he would be able to accomplish any forced marches we might have to undergo. That day we did a matter of twenty miles.

On the third day out we passed through Mauberge. We had only covered some seven miles when a halt was called and we lay on the right of the road for six hours. While there we were told that a force of about 30,000 Germans was on our front, and the Cavalry had gone out on a reconnaissance.

At 5 o'clock they marched us into billets, but we had not been settled more than an hour and a half when a Staff Officer came galloping up with orders to move at once. About four miles from Mauberge we could hear a distant boom of a gun, and all lines of communication had been cut. A halt was called in the centre of Mauberge for one hour, and we were told that no man was to eat his "iron ration" i.e. emergency ration, or drink any of the water which he carried in his water-bottle, as we were expecting to go into action and probably should not get the supplies up for four days. On we went, and marched for two hours without a minute's rest. The men began to tire, and their cry became the opposite to that with which we set out. Then it was, "Are we down-hearted?" now it had become, "Dump us in a field!"

After another hour we had passed the outer forts of Mauberge, and were feeling our way very cautiously. Suddenly we would go on with a rush; then more slowly; and this sort of thing continued until 2 a.m. We had had no real rest since 6 a.m. the day before; but at length we arrived at a small village south of Mons, where we found billets, one company of my Regiment going further on to find outpost duty. Thankful I was not to be in that company!

Our rest did not last very long. Arriving in as we did at 2 a.m., we were brought out again at 3.30 a.m., with a remark from the Colonel that we were a lazy lot of ——. Some of us could barely crawl, being stiff and chafed from our long march of nearly thirty-five miles—not bad for one day, considering that we were fully equipped.

Our next move was to a field two miles off. We were moved so early from the last place because it was thought advisable to shift us before daybreak, owing to the probability of its being shelled by the Germans. In this field the morning was occupied by feet and rifle inspection. A German aeroplane came over us, and we were all ordered to line the hedges and seek cover, which we did in quick time.

During the afternoon we moved higher up toward the enemy, staying in another village for a few hours. We were put into another schoolhouse, which was well stocked with vegetables in the garden, so we set about preparing for ourselves an enjoyable repast. Just on our front the batteries were in action, and, whilst awaiting our dinner, we sat upon the wall of the school and watched the duel. It was a glorious sight! A flock of birds in the distance was mistaken by all of us for a Zeppelin through the haze. We were, however, doomed to go without the big dinner we had promised ourselves, as we were given our marching orders and were off before it was cooked.

On forming up with the remainder of the Brigade, we were ordered to charge magazine, with one round in the breach also. Things began to look exciting, and in their agitation a few men let their rifles go off, narrowly missing their comrades. We then advanced through an avenue for a mile at the double, when the word was given to halt and lie down, no smoking and no talking, as we were now in support to the South Staffords on our front, who were expected to retire through us at any minute. After laying there the whole of the night, and having the Pioneer Sergeant run over by a pair of mules attached to an ammunition limber, we were not required! All we got for our night out was the loss of the Pioneer Sergeant, with two broken ribs, and one other man injured. It had been a pitch-black night, and we had not noticed a trench just off the road filled with straw, where we could have rested our aching limbs.

As soon as daybreak appeared, we were ordered off that road; and we had no sooner left it than it was heavily shelled. We dug some more trenches that same day and retired from them just before they were blown up, so we were evidently very fortunate on the twenty-second of August, 1914.

On leaving the road, we retired to a thicket on our left rear, but quitted it, and came to the trenches aforementioned. Two batteries were just behind us there, and they were having a bad time. Also while there the Scots Greys, who were our brigade scouts, came in with a report of meeting with a body of Uhlans. They had evidently surprised these Uhlans, and had given them a warm time, the losses of the Scots Greys being only one man, I believe, and two wounded. As I pointed out before, we left those trenches in the nick of time; they were not the trenches we have now in France, but only what we call "one-man trenches"—very little more than head cover, dug with our entrenching tools and no good whatsoever against shell fire.

After retiring from them we were kept on the side of the road for the night; and for the next few days were rushed from one position to another.

Early one morning we set off to guard a bridge, and, after going a mile or so, we were again placed in a field. On the way we were handed some corned beef and biscuits, also a grocery ration, i.e. a tin of tea and sugar and two Oxo cubes, by some A.S.C. men who had been left with orders to issue them to troops going into action. One of them handed me mine with the remark: "You'll need it, old man, where you're going!" Very cheerful, I thought.

We then advanced over some open fields in Artillery formation, the Scots Greys going first, probing all hedges with their swords. In this field we were told to line the hedges.

Two incidents worth relating occur to my mind: one was the bravery of one of our flying-men—he had just flown over the German lines, and on coming back was being shelled by the German batteries—how he escaped being hit I cannot think, as shells were bursting no less than a dozen at once all around him, and the fragments of shells were dropping around us everywhere, though no one was hit. Our Colonel, highly pleased with the steadiness of the aviator, remarked that he felt proud to be an Englishman.

The other incident occurred in connection with an order of the C.O. He gave out that the Germans had advanced upon the Middlesex Regiment, driving the civil population of various villages in front of them and thus screening themselves. He was very sorry to say that, if it was done to us, we should have to fire upon them, as it was our duty to those at home. But happily it did not occur then, or on any occasion on which I faced the Germans, so I was spared the horror of assisting in the slaughter of women and children in such a cowardly way.

However, the bridge we set out to guard in the first place had, I believe, been taken by the enemy, so our services were not required.

Our fighting experiences at Mons were not very severe, as the work fell to the lot of other Brigades. The 1st Brigade, which contained two Battalions of Guards, the 2nd Black Watch, and the Munster Fusiliers, suffered far more heavily than did we, who were moved from one place to another, mostly in support. Operating as we did chiefly round the outskirts of Mons, our casualty list was very slight.